


Coming Home

by squidney24



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, They really have been hurting my heart recently, and longing, we love some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidney24/pseuds/squidney24
Summary: Charlotte returns to her hotel room after brutalizing Ronda Rousey at Survivor Series.





	Coming Home

After the match with Ronda was finally over, Charlotte walked back to her hotel room in silence. She laid down on the bed, exhausted and alone like she had been for months now. Ever since Summerslam. Ever since Becky turned her back on her. Ever since Becky said she was a burden and an obstacle and tossed her to the side. She had been alone since.

It’s funny sometimes how you can be surrounded by people, but something inside of you still feels so alone. Charlotte had friends. After Summerslam, after Becky, she still had plenty of nights spent in bars with friends, laughing and drinking until 2 AM. But, when she walked through that hotel room door at the end of the night, she was still alone. Becky wasn’t there. Becky would never be there again.

Charlotte didn’t believe it was possible to miss someone who hated you that much.

Which is why everything changed when Becky got injured. When Charlotte turned away from attacking the Raw women long enough to notice Becky drenched in her own blood, a feeling that Charlotte had shoved down for so long came rushing back, as if an instinct. Suddenly, the only thought in Charlotte’s mind was, ‘Protect Becky. Protect her girl. She needs to be safe.’

A white-hot flash of anger rushed through her veins, and she continued the fight against the Raw women with her ferocity renewed. When it was all over, Charlotte saw Becky being escorted away to medical. Protective instincts still flaring, Charlotte began to take off after Becky, but a hand on her arm stopped her. A growl almost ripped through her throat until Charlotte turned and saw Naomi. Her friend had an understanding look on her face but shook her head gently.

Charlotte understood. Now wasn’t the time. Becky probably wouldn’t even accept Charlotte’s help or want Charlotte there at all. Charlotte glanced in Becky’s direction one last time. Then, she let Naomi lead her away.

Things were different the next night on Smackdown. The air felt different around her. Becky was unable to fight, and she had to choose a replacement for her match against Ronda. Something in Charlotte already knew it would be her.

Everything changed when Becky and Charlotte were standing face to face in the middle of a Smackdown ring, and Becky said she was good enough. And, when Becky was finally in her arms again, Charlotte closed her eyes and held on tighter than she ever had in her life.

There is a certain feeling when you come back home after a long time away. A certain longing that was held tightly in your chest is released, tension in your shoulders that you didn’t even know was there relaxes, and you just collapse. With Becky in her arms again, Charlotte held on tight so she wouldn’t collapse. Her entire body relaxed, and her mind finally quieted down. All the guilt and shame and sadness that had consumed her since Summerslam evaporated into the air. It floated away into the atmosphere as if it had never been wrapped around her at all, drowning her.

At that moment, when Charlotte held her girl in her arms for the first time in months, something in Charlotte shifted and clicked into place. A key fits perfectly into a lock, and Charlotte was home.

With Becky held closely in her arms, Charlotte instantly knew she would do anything to have this again. She couldn’t give this up a second time and go back to Becky hating her. Charlotte may have found a way to survive the first break. Charlotte knew now though if she lost, and Becky was disappointed in her, Charlotte couldn’t go on. She couldn’t go on knowing that was the last time she would ever hold Becky in her arms.

Something inside Charlotte that had long been dormant awakened. Charlotte would fight for Becky, and she would do anything to beat Ronda. She would do anything to win this match. Charlotte would do anything for Becky.

And, she did.

Charlotte felt an intensity coursing through her veins the second she stepped into that ring at Survivor Series. Charlotte was relentless. She was vicious. Charlotte threw everything she had inside of her at Ronda. Every ounce of love she had for Becky was wielded in Charlotte’s hand like a sword. All of the pain and longing held deeply in Charlotte’s chest was released like bullets from a gun, smashing into Ronda’s body until she lay bleeding in the middle of the ring.

It wasn’t enough.

Ronda wasn’t going down, and Charlotte was so tired. She was so frustrated. She was so scared that Becky was watching, and Charlotte was going to disappoint her. Charlotte told Becky that she would fight for her. Charlotte gave Becky up once. She would never make that mistake again.

Charlotte snapped. Before Charlotte even realized what she was doing, she had a kendo stick in her hands. Ronda was rushing toward her, and a spike of adrenaline like nothing Charlotte had ever experienced flooded her veins.

Charlotte reared back, and she swung. Hard.

The kendo stick smashed into Ronda’s side, and a feeling deep in Charlotte’s chest roared. This was for Becky. All for Becky. Charlotte whacked Ronda with the kendo stick over and over, not even realizing that the bell had been rung. That the match was over.

Charlotte broke kendo sticks beating Ronda recklessly, referees trying to pull her away. It wasn’t enough. Charlotte had left the ring, but she jumped back in. Running up behind Ronda, she smashed Ronda’s head into the chair with a Natural Selection. A satisfied smirk appeared on her face at the sound of Ronda’s head bouncing off the chair.

In minutes, Charlotte ran through several referees and stomped the chair she had wrapped around Ronda’s neck, crushing her throat. Ronda wasn’t the baddest bitch in the world. It was Charlotte. It had always been Charlotte. And, it was especially Charlotte when she was defending Becky. Avenging Becky. Fighting the fight that Becky couldn’t. Charlotte would always fight for Becky when Becky couldn’t fight for herself.

She couldn’t help herself when it came to Becky. She never could. Ronda never stood a chance.

Finally, the night was over. Charlotte took one last look at Ronda. Then, she walked away.

Back in her hotel room, Charlotte sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, she felt her breath even out and exhaustion consumes her body. With the exhaustion came a deep sense of loneliness. Charlotte had messaged Becky after the match, but Becky never replied. Charlotte had given her all for Becky, to Becky, but she only received radio silence in return.

Tears of desperation and longing welled up in her eyes. Charlotte almost gave in, almost allowed herself to break down like she had so many times before for Becky. Like Charlotte knew she always would for Becky. But, she forced the tears back. Becky didn’t ask Charlotte to brutalize Ronda. Becky asked her to win. Charlotte lost.

Relinquishing herself to the exhaustion, Charlotte closed her eyes.

As she was fading to sleep, Charlotte thought she heard a light knock on the door. Believing she had just imagined it, Charlotte closed her eyes. Wanting to let sleep consume her. Wanting to let anything other than this feeling of longing for Becky consume her.

There was another knock on her door, louder this time. Believing the person was unlikely to go away, Charlotte slowly stood to her feet. Charlotte felt the exhaustion deep in her bones and was prepared to quickly be rid of the individual at her door. Ignoring the peephole, Charlotte unlocked her hotel room door.

She opened the door, and, suddenly, Becky was standing in front of her. They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Then,

“Hi, Charlie.”

It’s funny how sometimes home can be a person.


End file.
